


the next life in which we aren't together

by EKBORANEI



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 17:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11491056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EKBORANEI/pseuds/EKBORANEI
Summary: I dreamt of Ahn Hyeongseob, and as it went from every few nights to practically every night, I kept dreaming of him.





	the next life in which we aren't together

**Author's Note:**

> Basically an alternate universe, this is another life in which Woojin has memories of his previous life.

Over the next few months, I found myself dreaming the same dream. It occurred once, and I thought not much of it, but then it reoccurred and reoccurred again and again. I dreamt of Ahn Hyeongseob, and as it went from every few nights to practically every night, I kept dreaming of him. The dream was gentle but then would turn almost violently surreal, of feelings and atmosphere, it was something like a bitter yet flavourful liquid that I found hard to swallow down in the end.

            When I opened my eyes, the same soft white glow of moonlight would come into view, it shone through the window and filled the room. As if by reflex, I sat up and looked around, mindlessly searching for any indication that I was still in my apartment, or if I was alone. But it was as if the contents of the room blurred away, what I saw instead was Hyeongseob who sat across from me, legs folded beneath him. He was dressed in plain white clothes, and his hair was parted slightly. I didn’t know what time it was, there was no clock, and my phone was not beside me on the bed where it should be. He stared at me intently, I stared back at him, yet it was as if a signal was made that prompted him to get on his knees and crawl towards me. Slowly, that was how he did it, one limb at a time, till he got to me and moved to sit on my lap.

            Truthfully, as much as the dream replayed, I could never tell what he was thinking, I always tried my best to peer into his eyes to try and see what secrets he might have been attempting to hide, what was he thinking? But I couldn’t, and I didn’t know if it was because of such barriers within the dream or because a part of me was just not able to.

            My arms wrapped around his waist, and he leaned in to kiss me. It was a soft and firm kiss. But as I pulled away for a moment, attempting to catch breath, Hyeongseob would pull me back in and kissed me again, his bulbous lips against mine. A while later he drew back and his hands went up to slowly unbutton his shirt, there were six buttons in total, and it felt as if that moment stretched on for some time—my eyes watching his pretty fingers undo the buttons. Hyeongseob, as the light played shadows on his face and on his body, observed me as if he was very fascinated.

            I pushed him and set him on his back when he reached the second to last button, I never let him finish. The first thing I heard come out of his mouth was my name, _Woojin_ , and the next thing, _Woojin,_ and again, _Woojin please_. In all honesty, it was an addictive sound, his voice was melodious and the accompanying taste of his flesh was sweet. His body was alluring, his mouth moaned at times just a little too much, and the sound of his voice would resonate throughout the room.

            _I love you_ , I wanted to say, _I love you and I want you in my arms forever_. But upon the instant I thought that, I began to shake, and warm tears spilled from my eyes. A gigantic force swept me out of the calm mood we were in before, and filled me with an intense sadness, I couldn’t stop crying. Hyeongseob trembled underneath me, and it seemed as though the world around us trembled along with him. Then Hyeongseob’s mouth opened and I thought he screamed, but nothing came out, and immediately it was as if all sound dissolved away. He cried, trapped in between my arms. His face then started to distort horribly, the skin stretched and wrinkled, his condition had deteriorated within seconds. It was something out of a horror movie, something psychologically frightening. I tried to call out his name, to say something, but nothing came out and I attempted to reach out and hold him in my arms once again. Hyeongseob fizzled away and turned into ash in a matter of seconds, I choked.

            I woke up sweating, half crying and gasping for air. Almost every time it would end that way, and the image of Hyeongseob crying would be burned into my brain—I couldn’t forget it. Many times I struggled to find the meaning of that dream, what my deep consciousness was trying to tell me, what did it mean for Hyeongseob to dwindle and disappear like that? But to no avail. I was desperate. I found myself missing him terribly, at times I couldn’t focus on my other tasks at hand and thought only of him. Not much to my surprise, my concentration at work was discouraged; Hyeongseob was the one I wanted to see but could not.

            When the rain ceased its pouring, and the sunlight glistened through the clouds, I found myself walking along the streets of the city, it was still busy as ever despite the previous downpour. A few girls, seemingly middle school students, walked past me and closed up their umbrellas as they chatted. Today I dressed in simple clothes, an old black jacket adorned my white shirt, having felt no need to overdress myself. The time was eleven-twenty in the morning, the rain had lasted most of the morning, but I had slept in and only woke up in time to witness its last few minutes of show. I've grown to include strolls in my schedule everyday, having thought that some walking would clear my head even if for a little while, as of late I've grown accustomed to doing such things alone.

            During my outing, I encountered a junior of mine. He came to me—no, skipped, almost bounced—and decided to walk with me, claiming he had no plans for the rest of the day. “I’d like to walk with you for now, hyung.” He said cheerily. We talked for the next several minutes whilst walking, discussing his classes which were apparently too challenging, my travel plans for next month (I told him I wanted to visit a friend in Southeast Asia and when he asked where exactly, I didn't tell him), and he confessed to me, whispered about his secret unspoken affections for a foreigner in his dancing class.

            “It’s a little embarrassing to have a crush on someone younger than me, but it can’t be helped!” I hummed in reply, not knowing what to say. He suddenly stopped in his tracks, and his arm lifted to point at a flashing advert in front of a store.

            “Ah, hyung! Do you know him?” His voice bristled with excitement. I looked to where he was pointing. In front of a cosmetics store (one of the popular ones, I assumed), a colourful advert was flashing, and Hyeongseob’s face smiled charmingly, his hands holding up the latest product.

            “He’s a popular idol, you know. His group’s one of my favourites.”

            Hyeongseob looked beautiful, glowing, his skin smooth and pale, but I could make out the redness of his lips and his ears. Seeing him on that advert, seeing him famous, filled me with a fluttering happiness. (Because it was what he wanted, I remembered.) What Hyeongseob had stirred in me then was a kind of emotional reverberation, but the longer I looked at the advert, the sooner I saddened. I almost burst into tears when the realisation had hit me, it aroused such a terrible sorrow that I couldn’t help but let out a stuttering gasp.

            I knew him. I knew him very well, I wanted to say. But in this life, it was possible that he had changed. There were so many ways this Hyeongseob could have differed from the Hyeongseob I was too familiar with, it was possible that he might not like rabbits in this life, or that he might be more prone to swearing. It never failed to surprise me that this Hyeongseob could be in little ways different from the previous life, as if I had deemed the possibility of that change impossible. However the case, I still loved him. I continued to believe that Hyeongseob would still be the same gentle soul I knew, there was a place in my heart carved hollow and fleshed out just for him, it was never occupied by anyone else. My longing for him had persisted and so I thought of him more, but the growing fear that my mind might one day grow distant latched on to me. One day my memories of my previous life could disappear. That was a possibility. Perhaps it would happen when I grew older, or maybe without warning they would one day be gone. In this life, we were not together, and when, if it will happen, my memory of the feeling of his soft hands in mine begin to dwindle and fade, I understood that there was little chance of getting that memory back.

            “Y-yeah,” I muttered, “I know him, Daehwi.”

In this life, Ahn Hyeongseob didn’t know me. But he haunted me continuously. I didn’t know whether to think of that as a good thing or not.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally planned for a different thing to happen, but I just decided to end it this way. In the original, they meet at a fansign and Woojin's just another fanboy to Hyeongseob who have memories of his previous life. I don't know if I'll continue this, but I hope you liked it.
> 
> EDIT: yo, I just realised I keep describing moonlight as soft and white, I can't think of other words ashfbehkfej


End file.
